


Hung Out to Dry

by VioletMoodSwings



Series: Hung Up [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Porn, BDSM, Bondage, F/F, F/M, F/M/F, Implied past Doctor/Master sexytimes, LITERALLY, Mind Control, Mindfuck, Multi, Pansexual Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Threesome, Yaz has a crush on the Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletMoodSwings/pseuds/VioletMoodSwings
Summary: Yaz doesn't want to think it's excruciatingly hot that the Master has captured her to lure the Doctor into his diabolical sex games... but she does. At least she thinks she does, but it's hard to tell what with all the mind-control. Non-con PWP, now complete!
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan/The Master (Dhawan), Yasmin Khan/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: Hung Up [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045314
Comments: 86
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but all that 13/Master jazz in fanon has called forth my muse. Thanks for the inspiration, please note the tags, and enjoy!

Yaz wasn't sure what drew her to investigate the darkened basement of the abandoned mansion all by herself with a killer on the loose—she had seen enough low-budget horror films to know what a spectacularly bad idea it was. Graham and Ryan were hunting for clues on the grounds and the Doctor was goodness-knew-where on the property. Probably talking to herself, hashing out a genius plan, swishing about that golden hair...

Yaz shook her head. Obsessive thoughts about the Doctor were a disturbingly regular occurrence and sometimes impossible to hold at bay. She couldn't help but wonder what her Doctor looked like beneath those rainbows...

Without realizing, Yaz had opened a door to the basement stairs while lost in her musings. Only the top few steps were visible in the gloaming light from the windows around her, the rest swallowed up by a sinister pitch of black. Bad idea. _Exciting_ idea, she almost heard the Doctor say.

Switching on a small torch she kept in her pocket, Yaz held her breath, listened closely. When nothing slithered or cackled or wailed, she tentatively crept down the creaking stairs. Under normal circumstances, no way in hell would she have closed the door behind her, but in this case she was too absorbed in the thrill of the mystery to note her own ludicrous action.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the darkness swallowed up the beam of her torch. She kept her hand on the wall for reference.

Shoes shuffled on the floor somewhere in the gloom.

Yaz froze. She was not alone. Adrenaline shocked through her body. Wildly, she shone her light about the room.

"Hello? Who's there?!" Yaz called, trying desperately to keep her cool. Her gaze flew to the top of the stairs in search of an escape route, but the blackness was complete. Had she shut the door?

Yaz was ready to make a break for it. The lights overhead blinded her suddenly. Flinging her hand up to cover her eyes from the glare, she could only hear the man's exclamation.

"Surprise!"

No. No, no, no…

Her eyes adjusted to the light. There stood the Master in ridiculous checked trousers, hands flung dramatically towards the low ceiling in the center of the cavernous basement. The main room was sparsely furnished save for a large four poster bed surrounded by a plush rug. Something dangled from the ceiling behind the Master.

"You're surprised, right, tell me you're surprised!" he prattled, sardonic amusement in his dulcet tones. He advanced languorously.

Yaz was not one to freeze up in an emergency, but her feet felt rooted to the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Yaz said, voice tight.

"Oh, you _are_ surprised. Goody!" The Master clapped his hands in quick succession and flashed his brilliant white teeth in muted, manic glee.

Apparently she'd failed to conceal the panic from her features. Yaz's eyes darted to the door at the top of the stairs as he continued to stroll towards her. _Why?! Why had she—_

"Right now, you're probably asking yourself, 'What in time and space possessed me to close that door?'" the Master drawled.

The fresh confusion on Yaz's face came out to keep the panic company. She was less impressed that he seemed to know the answer to this question than the fact he'd known the question to begin with.

Clearly he wanted her to play along. She couldn't have bolted anyhow, her trainers glued down as if coated in gobs of industrial-strength chewing gum. Yaz bit back her fear and channeled the Doctor, raising her chin impetuously.

"Well?" she demanded.

The Master paused a meter away, just out of reach. The mania slipped into a sensual, predatory smile. He closed the last of the distance between them. Her flaring nostrils took him in—a heady, masculine scent with a hint of spiced vanilla and a dash of the same alien undertones the Doctor exuded. It took every ounce of her fierce strength to keep from flinching as he planted a hand on the wall beside her.

The Master tilted his head down to regard her directly from behind a curtain of black fringe. "Perhaps it's because you knew this little soiree was invitation only," he purred, his words an intimate promise.

Yaz blushed at an embarrassing jolt of arousal and tried to suppress a shiver of anticipation, an antagonistic echo of what she'd felt with O.

"St… stop that," she said, her voice disconcertingly husky.

"Stop what?" he rumbled in her ear. "I haven't done anything." An unspoken _yet_ hung in the air.

Slowly, the Master reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Yaz inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers grazed the delicate flesh of her neck. She knew how to cope with harsh words, insults, the threat of violence—but she was completely gobsmacked by the Master's gossamer touch, and even more so by her body's reaction.

The Master's fingers trailed down to her collarbone and continued beneath her jacket, over the top of her t-shirt. She almost leaned into his touch when he suddenly and firmly grabbed onto one of her tits.

Slammed back into the gravity and insanity of the situation, Yaz yelped, eyes popped open. The Master grinned as she knocked his hand away. He took a small step back to appreciate his work.

She balled up a fist, putting him at the perfect range—Yaz had always been more of a puncher than a slapper.

It was awkward to take a swing with her feet glued to the floor, but it didn't stop her from trying. She threw her weight into the artificial firmness of her stance. The Master leaned his smug face further away.

"There's that spirit the Doctor is so fond of!" the Master hooted.

Halfway through her lunge, Yaz's feet were suddenly free, throwing her off balance.

The Master ducked back and down, thrusting his shoulder up into Yaz's stomach as she fell. Tweed scraped against her belly where her t-shirt rode up. As the Master stood, Yaz's world inverted, flung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She tried to knee him in the stomach, but he just laughed and hugged her thighs more tightly to his chest as he strode across the room. She struggled mightily. He was stronger than he looked.

"Put me down!"

The Master complied. Dumped onto her feet, Yaz barely kept herself upright. She pulled a defensive stance from her police training.

"The Doctor always did prefer her pets sassy," the Master smirked.

"Well you've got me here," Yaz spat. "So now what?" Proud she was at her ability to hold the Master's twinkling, fathomless gaze through his moment of menacing silence.

"I'm so glad you asked!" he finally said.

Yaz hated that she couldn't help but stare at the Master's luscious lips. They curled into a positively devilish smile as fascination and fear twined around her mind. He strode forward. Instinctively she stepped back. She almost jumped a mile when a swaying something clinked against her back. Unwilling to take her eyes off the wily bastard before her she glanced back quickly: shackles, chained to the ceiling.

Her mind was suddenly overwhelmed by an image of herself half-naked and restrained as the Master fucked her hard and fast from behind. At the jarring and harshly erotic vision, Yaz let out a shout of dismay that almost matched the Master's bark of laughter. Her ponytail lashed violently as she tried to clear her head.

She felt her mental acuity return and gawped at the Master's knowing smile. His eyes glinted viciously as they flicked to her feet and back to her face, a slight nod daring her to try. Grunting with the effort, Yaz once again found her feet cemented to the floor. A yowl of frustration left her lips.

She drew a ragged breath to speak and the Master cut her off.

"No, I'm _not_ actually controlling your body. Technically I'm controlling your weak little human mind. Which in turn controls your currently helpless body. _Obviously_." The Master rolled his eyes with an "ugh" of annoyance.

He'd done it again. At least this time she had an explanation, which perhaps with some time she could exploit.

"I cannot _fathom_ why the Doctor enjoys having to spell out every… last… _detail_ to you primates."

He stalked over to Yaz, arms folded smugly over his chest. "I know what I _am_ going to enjoy though..."

Yaz somehow managed to keep her mind a blank.

"Now," he said, clapping his hands together firmly and rubbing his palms together. "We can do this the easy way or the—" He laughed and shook his head emphatically. "Oh, who am I kidding, both ways are easy as far as I'm concerned. And equally as entertaining. Take off your jacket."

Which would be the lesser of two evils? Simply give into this egomaniac's demands, or gift him the satisfaction of a fight? Considering his advantage, it seemed unlikely she'd buy herself any time if she fought. Yaz shifted her weight and found her feet were free again. Enticement for a scrap, she wagered. Begrudgingly she slipped her jacket off and let it drop on the floor.

"Raise your hands above your head."

Yaz glowered at the Master as she lifted her arms. She'd cling to as much dignity as she could in this situation. He raised his eyebrows in mock delight.

"My, my, you _are_ easy! But we all know the Doctor doesn't like a challenge when it comes to her pets."

Her nostrils flared but she remained silent. _Dignity_.

The Master closed the distance. He yanked Yaz's shirt up and over her head and flung it away.

"Just lovely," the Master breathed sarcastically, though the intent of his intonation didn't quite cover up the truth behind his words.

Yaz suppressed a shudder—not at the Master's seductive voice, not at his fiery gaze, just at the breeze of his movement on her freshly-bared skin. _Dignity_.

Circling behind Yaz, the Master ran a hand up that soft flesh, from the waistband of her trousers, over the cotton of her black bra, up to her wrists, still held aloft. Gooseflesh followed in the wake of his touch. He grabbed one tiny wrist in his strong hand and leaned in to briefly nibble on her earlobe. Yaz convinced herself that the arousal that shot through her must be the Master's mind-control.

A cold shackle clacked into place around her wrist.

"I certainly had something to do with it..." he murmured in reply as if she'd spoken aloud. He seized her other wrist. "… but that _je ne c'est quoi_ you are experiencing is all you, sunshine."

The metal now trapped both her arms. For support Yaz grabbed the chains that attached to the ceiling. The Master stepped back a couple of paces and admired the scene with a smirk.

"If only the Doctor could see you now..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, what *if* the Doctor could see her like that? Stay tuned. 
> 
> Smut is a salve for my soul, but reviews are a drop of lavender in the ointment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This has only been beta-ed by me, and I'll give it another good going-over when it's finished. I don't want to stand between you and the smut. So here we go!

"Yes, if only the Doctor could see you now..." the Master repeated, wistful this time. His gaze wandered away from the delectable picture Yaz presented, retreated inside his own mind. A small smile quirked at his lips as if sharing a private joke with himself. A moment later his carnivorous focus landed back onto Yaz.

"Now, where were we? Ah yes. You: an average human shackled to the ceiling. Me: a devastatingly attractive, mad super-genius, your captor." He slapped a hand over his hearts in mock modesty. "It's like a tawdry romance novel! Whatever shall happen next!"

Yaz continued to aim ocular daggers at the vainglorious villain. _Dignity_.

The Master screwed up his face at her silence. "The genre not to your liking?"

He prowled up to Yaz and made a show of circling around behind her. The Master must have known full well how his voice affected her as he leaned in again.

"How about action, then?" he purred. Yaz shivered as his breath floated across the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. "The kind you longed for as O squeezed you so tight on the back of that motorbike?"

He curled an arm around her waist. "Wasn't that _exciting_!"

The Master thrust his hips into Yaz's arse to punctuate the sentiment, as a memory of Barton's chase thrust into her mind. Yaz gasped despite herself. He held himself close, and Yaz could feel his arousal pressing into her backside, just as she imagined she'd felt O's as he'd clung to her. The Master rasped his beard over the back of her neck and Yaz bit back a groan.

"It was all lies," she managed.

Before she could even register that the Master's heat was gone from behind her, Yaz yelped as he grabbed her hips and yanked them back. She'd have fallen had it not been for the chains that held her. Her body almost made a sideways L, with her arse as the corner.

"Well the truth hurts, sunshine." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

The Master swatted her bum. Yaz cried out more in surprise than pain, the blow mostly absorbed by her jeans.

She'd once had a girlfriend that had—consensually—tied her up and spanked her. While Yaz hadn't particularly enjoyed the pain, she had gotten off on the attention, on relinquishing control, on taking what was dished out. In pleasing her partner she pleased herself.

Yaz cursed herself and tried to make her mind a blank as the Master let out a low chuckle. Did she really need to serve him material on a platter?

The Master knelt before Yaz. She stared down at him, a butterfly moshpit raging beneath where he nuzzled her belly. There was nowhere for her to go in this position. Her mind was obscured by dandelion fluff. Arousal shot through her like an afternoon lightning storm. Holding her gaze with dark promise, the Master unfastened the button on her trousers and slowly unzipped the fly, tine by tine.

His attention floated lower as the Master coaxed Yaz's feet off the ground one at a time, pulling off her shoes and socks. Once he'd tossed them aside, he ran a finger down the sole of her foot. Yaz shivered at the almost-ticklish feeling.

It was infuriating how intensely gentle this psychopath could be, and almost as disorienting as when he suddenly bit the edge of her insole. She grasped onto her chains and gasped at the acute sensation. The Master wrapped an arm around Yaz to steady her. He sucked a few moments longer, eliciting a grunt from Yaz. Surely the Master could smell her now, if he hadn't before. In her confusion and arousal, Yaz squeezed her eyes shut. She was meant to be doing something, but the rush of hormones made rational thought impossible.

The Master placed Yaz's foot on the ground and tugged her jeans down her shapely legs, toned from running alongside the Doctor. Thoughtlessly she helped kick them away.

The Master gracefully righted himself behind Yaz, pressing his erection against her. They both groaned at the sensation. The Master reached around to tease his fingers over her damp knickers. Yaz was torn between grinding back onto his cock, or into his fingers. He benevolently solved her dilemma by dipping his hand into her knickers and sliding clever fingers along the length of her sopping wetness. A full flush took over Yaz's face and she tilted her head back with a moan.

"Oh, you do like to please," he murmured. "Like a good little pet."

The Master toyed with her clit, finding exactly the right spot within moments. Yaz keened, approaching her orgasm full throttle. If she'd had her wits about her, it would have been no surprise when the Master stopped just before she could plunge over the edge, but under the circumstances she simply gave a heartfelt sob. He removed his magical hand from her knickers to shove the soaked fabric down around her ankles.

Yaz heard the shifting of cloth behind her as the Master freed his cock from the confines of his trousers. Earnestly she rocked her arse towards him.

He grabbed a handful of Yaz's hip. "So impatient. Don't worry, sunshine, you'll get what's coming to you."

Yaz's knees almost buckled as she felt the Master's cock rubbing between her folds. Sliding the head of his prick along her slit, he teased her mercilessly—just when he'd made a show of lining himself up to push inside, he'd slip down to prod her clit again instead. Yaz needed him so badly she could scream. Instead it came out a strangled begging.

"Please, oh please..." Yaz whispered hoarsely.

"Please… who?"

"Please... me! Please please me!" Yaz babbled, her mind a doughy mess.

The Master let out a genuine laugh behind her, almost pushing into her slickness by mistake.

"Say my name, pet."

So far-gone was she, Yaz didn't notice the door to the stairs creaking open.

She ground herself against the antagonistic friction behind her. She had nothing left to lose. "Master! Please… Master!" Yaz implored. This was it. Surely she'd get her reward now.

Instead she received a dark chortle from her captor.

"Ah Doctor, enjoying the view?" the Master said. "I can always count on your impeccable sense of timing," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruh-roh! It's about to get *really* interesting! 
> 
> Lemme hear how you like it in the reviews, hehe. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Yaz suddenly snapped out of her erotic reverie, eyes wide as they flew to the stairs. There stood her Doctor, gawping at the debauchery. Yaz must have looked a sight to the object of her affection, dangling by aching arms from the ceiling mostly naked, about to be skewered by her best enemy.

“Is something amiss, Doctor?” the Master asked as if over a cup of tea.

The Doctor was rendered speechless, a rare occasion.

“You’re absolutely right… but what could it be?” the Master released a handful of Yaz’s hip to tap his chin thoughtfully. “Ah! I know.”

He leaned over Yaz, the momentum pushing the head of his cock ever-so-slightly into the entrance to her cunt. In her embarrassment Yaz had almost forgotten what she’d been begging for only moments before, but now she unconsciously rocked back towards him. The groan that emerged from her throat compounded her mortification. Like an ostrich burrowing its head in the sand, Yaz hid her face as best she could in her armpit. The Master unhooked her bra and peeled it away from buoyant breasts, still half obscured by the material that stretched between her arms.

Was that desire that flashed over the Doctor’s face before it was blotted out by abject anger?

“Is this better?” the Master asked and roughly palmed one of Yaz’s tits. Tweed scraped against her arse as he teasingly rutted against her, the head of his cock just barely seated inside.

“Oh god,” Yaz moaned hopelessly into her arm, half pleasure, half utter humiliation.

“Stop this. Now,” the Doctor commanded. Yaz peeked out to see the Doctor storm down the steps, boots thundering against the old timbers, coat a cloud behind her.

“Oh but Doctor, the fun has just begun!”

“What do you want?” the Doctor demanded.

“I love it when you get saucy! And from the feel of it, so does your little pet here. But you know me. All I want is a good time.”

The Master buried his face in Yaz’s neck and inhaled deeply. She shivered. His voice dropped an octave.

“And so does you little pet here. She’s got some pretty filthy fantasies about O in here.” It was a little reminder that he was closely monitoring Yaz’s thoughts. “Not as interesting as the ones she’s got about you though, Doctor.”

“Leave her alone,” the Doctor said, treading trepidatiously towards them.

“Would you prefer to take her place?”

The Master pulled his prick out of Yaz. Though partly relieved, she held back a whimper at its loss. Yaz was confused, so very confused at the dearth of conflicting emotions that coursed through her.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I had you in a compromising position,” the Master continued and waggled his glistening, stiff cock at the Doctor.

The Doctor gritted her teeth. “No.”

“You could take my place then.” The Master tightened his grip on Yaz’s hip. “ _She_ likes that idea. Perhaps not ideal conditions—but she’ll take what she can get,” the Master smirked.

 _Oh_ _no_ , Yaz thought. What perversion had he pulled out of her brain this time?

The Doctor gave him a steely stare in response.

The Master shrugged and positioned himself to plow into his captive. “Well I guess I’ll just—”

Yaz gritted her teeth in anticipation.

“Wait!” the Doctor cried.

“Yes, luv?”

“Don’t. Please.” The Doctor’s voice was low and imploring.

The Master righted himself. Casually he supported himself on one of Yaz’s chains and they both swayed gently. Her shoulders burned with the prolonged stretch. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Look, luv, someone’s getting fucked here tonight. But I’m feeling magnanimous. I’ll let you choose who gets fucked by whom.”

“Or what?” the Doctor challenged.

“Or...” the Master’s lip curled up into a snarl. “...something fantastically terrible will happen to millions of people, blah blah blah,” he snapped. “Shall I come up with something now or just play it off the cuff if and when the occasion arises?”

The Doctor took a steadying breath. She and the Master stared fiercely into each other’s eyes.

Yaz moaned quietly—her muscles burned, she was a horny mess, and to make matter worse, being completely ignored.

“Wait your turn, pet,” the Master murmured and swatted her bottom without breaking eye contact with the Doctor.

“Okay. I’ll do it,” the Doctor said finally.

“Of course you will,” the Master said with a smirk. “So… who’s it going to be?”

Yaz held her breath. She’d wanted the Doctor from the day she’d laid eyes on her, and that desire had only deepened with every moment she spent in the company of the intriguing, infuriating alien. There was no way the Doctor would have sex with her nemesis! Especially not after the O deception. Clearly the Doctor would have to… be intimate with her instead. It was the only logical way out of this mess. And Yaz would do it, would take this one for the team. Yes, she wou—

“Let’s just get this over with,” the Doctor growled.

“I knew you’d say that,” the Master said smugly.

He leaned in without ceremony to kiss the Doctor. She let his lips touch hers briefly before she pressed a hand to his chest.

“Get her down from there first.”

 _Looks like your turn is never coming_ , bragged the Master’s voice inside her head.

Yaz’s jaw nearly hit the ground as she caught on.

“After,” the Master said.

“Then no deal.”

The Master scrutinized the Doctor’s hardened face, then shrugged. “Fine. But she stays close. You know I love an audience.”

The Doctor shook her head. “She goes free and we do… whatever it is we’re going to do. Alone.”

The Master rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Look, I’m sure I could have those two idiots bumbling around the hedge maze assassinated right now, if it would make you feel better.”

“Doctor, it’s fine,” Yaz mumbled, dejected. It appeared she would be taking one for the team, but as an unwilling spectator.

The Doctor let out a little “ugh,” folded her arms over her chest and looked away. Apparently the Master took this as assent. He tucked his cock back into his trousers and spun on his heel to free the forlorn Yaz.

“See? Who says I can’t compromise!” he said gleefully.

“Manacles?” the Doctor grumbled. “Really? What a cliché. You always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk. I suppose that’s why we make such a _fine pair._ ” The bastard made sure to catch Yaz’s eye with a self-satisfied look. She was too exhausted, too disheartened and too sore to rejoinder.

As her bonds were removed Yaz almost collapsed from fatigue. The Doctor dashed in to catch her, arms around Yaz’s naked ribcage, coat sleeves brushing the underside of her breasts. The Master nonchalantly plucked the bra off of Yaz’s arms.

“Can you stand?” the Doctor asked gently. Yaz nodded and found her footing, though she could have stood more of the Doctor’s touch.

The Master wandered over to the four-poster bed in the corner of the room and chucked a large throw pillow on the floor.

He waltzed back over to them as Yaz’s muscles recalled how to operate. Impatiently he scooped Yaz up and carried her to the bed. She was afraid he would simply drop her on the ground, but he placed her on the pillow with enough care to appease the Doctor, who had followed them over with concern painted on her features.

“A little cushion for your pet,” he snarked to the Doctor before leering down at Yaz. “Good pet. Stay.”

Yaz simple glared at him. What else could she do?

The Doctor’s hand shot out and grabbed the Master by the bowtie. She hauled him over to the foot of the bed, kissed him roughly and then shoved him away.

“My, my, so forward. Now—”

The Doctor cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I know the drill...” she muttered. She plopped onto her knees, her back to the bed, holding icy eye contact for the trip down.

“… _Master_ ,” she spat out, flashing a glacial smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a slower burn than I anticipated, though I do so love to keep you on the edge. Thanks to those of you along for the ride. I promise I'll make good on the "Mindfuck LITERALLY" tags real soon. 
> 
> Reviews are love!


	4. Chapter 4

The Master gawped momentarily, then let out a lusty chortle, eyes glittering beneath waving fringe. No matter the context it clearly gave him great pleasure to hear the sound of his chosen title. From anyone, Yaz suspected, but from the Doctor most especially. There was something akin to adoration in his eyes.

“Superb,” he said.

He shucked his tweet jacket and draped it over his arm. “May I take your coat, Doctor?” he asked with a sarcastic genteel flourish. The Doctor shoved her coat off and held it out to the Master. As he reached for it, she dropped the garment to the floor. The snub almost seemed to give him pause. The adoration seeped away. He snorted and hung his jacket over the top of the nearest bed post.

Yaz commiserated with the Doctor’s coat, lumped awkwardly on the floor and forgotten.

Though the Master never so much as looked at her, his silky voice invaded Yaz’s skull once more. _Don’t worry, sunshine. We’ll put on a good show for you._

She glared at him, and put enough feeling into it to be sure he’d see it in his mind’s eye. Yaz heard him chuckle, but couldn’t tell if it was in real life or just her head.

From his back pocket the Master produced a pair of bright pink, fuzzy handcuffs, the kind found in a tawdry sex shop. He dropped them with a muffled clatter on the floor before the Doctor.

“Now put these on. There’s a good girl,” he said, voice just as smug as his expression.

If they were anything like the kind Yaz and her ex-girlfriend had played around with, the cheap cuffs were mostly for decoration. Or in this case, humiliation. Nothing so dignified as manacles for his nemesis.

The Doctor’s face shifted to indifference. She dangled the handcuffs from one finger, studying them like an everyday houseware.

“Pink, eh? Is that because I’m a woman now?” she began rhetorically. “Never understood the pink for girls and blue for boys thing. I mean, ‘B’ for blue and ‘B’ for boys, that I get, but why isn’t it ‘G’ for green, then?”

The smile fell off the Master’s face. It appeared the only monologues he appreciated were his own. “Stop stalling.”

The Doctor ignored his irritation and shrugged. “You know me, always… horsing around.” She chuckled at her own pun.

The murderous expression that made the Master somehow more handsome crept across his features. Even though he was a complete bastard and she feared for their safety, a small part of Yaz could understand why the Doctor would bait it out of him.

Apparently he heard this thought. The Master’s intense gaze flicked to Yaz. Though she wanted to climb under the bed at the power of his glower, she held his eyes without a flinch. He returned his attention to the Doctor as she opened one cuff and with an exaggerated gesture and clicked it over her wrist.

“One down, one to go!” she chirped.

The Master’s agitation got the better of him and he dropped to his knees, mirroring the Doctor. He snatched the empty cuff, her bound wrist yanked along as he unclasped it.

“Impatien—” The Doctor’s wisecrack was cut short by the Master’s mouth crashing into her own. He shoved her back onto her bum and crawled forward, crushing the Doctor into the foot of the bed.

Yaz stared, repressing an instinct to intervene. The Doctor groaned, but whether from dismay or pleasure Yaz couldn’t say. Strange though—it was like she could taste the Doctor’s kisses under her own hot mouth; smell her sweet, alien scent as if they were pressed together.

The Doctor began to respond to the Master’s kiss, her free hand tentatively caressing his beard. Yaz swore she could feel the silk of the Doctor’s hair as the Master slid his free hand into it. He tugged on a handful and the Doctor grunted. Someone deepened the kiss. The Master let out a little rumble of approval. A shiver rode down Yaz’s spine as she transfixed upon the scene before her.

The Master let go of the Doctor’s hair, slid the braces down her shoulders. Grabbing her free wrist, he slapped the empty cuff closed on it. Task completed, the Master broke the kiss to throw her bound arms around his neck. He nipped and sucked at the Doctor’s neck—was that the taste of salt and smell of melon?—as he loosened the laces on her boots one by one. Letting her eyes flutter shut, the Doctor leaned her weight back as he worked.

Grasping the Doctor by her thighs, the Master stood and heaved both their bodies onto the bed. The Master grinned at her gasp of surprise as he landed solidly atop her. He latched onto her neck, leaving a mark in his wake. The Doctor was warm as she squirmed beneath him. The Master slipped away from the ring of her cuffed arms, planting his feet back on the floor. He toed off his shoes to stand in plum-tinted socks. Bending over, he undid the button and zip of the Doctor’s trousers.

Using the Doctor’s hips as a handle, the Master hauled her arse to the edge of the bed. She’d only just gotten out her yip of dismay as he turned and lifted her leg up over his shoulder.

 _Socks,_ came his voice in Yaz’s head. Socks? She wasn’t wearing any—

One of the Doctor’s boots almost grazed Yaz’s head as it sailed through the air, startling her back to reality. The Master wiggled a stockinged foot at her.

_Now, pet._

The humiliation that burned Yaz’s cheeks was mild compared to everything else she’d been subjected to that night. She might as well have some part of the spectacle. And she didn’t want the Master to hurt the Doctor because _she_ was being cheeky. So...

Cautiously, Yaz crawled to the Master’s feet. Neither of them paid Yaz any mind—she was below the Doctor’s line of sight and _he_ was a bastard. Awkwardly she peeled one sock off and dodged again as the Master spun to lift the Doctor’s other leg. At least his socks were clean. Another boot followed its mate across the room. The Master picked up his other foot for Yaz. She pulled his second sock off and stacked the pair neatly on the floor.

Yaz wondered if she was meant to return to her pillow, but the Master gave no direction, so she remained kneeling gracelessly next to the dust bunnies under the bed.

The Master yanked the Doctor’s trousers and knickers down her legs and tossed them aside as well.

“When I said just get it over with,” the Doctor groused,” I didn’t mean—” Her words turned into a moan as the Master rubbed his large thumb across her already swollen labia.

Bastard though he was, the Master had granted Yaz a front row seat. Her wide eyes took in every millimeter of the Doctor’s beautiful cunt. The tang of the Doctor’s arousal wafted down to Yaz’s nostrils, mixing with the smell of her own. Yaz held back a groan.

The Master bent over, face level with the Doctor’s pussy. Inhaling deeply, he and Yaz both savored the scent. He slid his thumb around the Doctor’s entrance, gathering wetness. The Master moved the digit up to lightly caress her clit, eliciting a sound from the back of the Doctor’s throat. It wasn’t long before she began to grind up into his hand.

“Who’s impatient now?” the Master quipped, gleaming eyes fixed upon the Doctor.

 _Button._ The Master’s voice in Yaz’s head again. She put two and two together quickly this time as her eyes darted to the crotch of his checkered trousers. He’d never redone his zipper.

The Master continued to tease the Doctor with feathery strokes of his thumb as he nibbled and rubbed his beard on her thighs. She sighed and huffed in aroused annoyance. Yaz reached up and undid the button on his trousers. Why was she so quick to please him? Was it the mind-control, the threat of danger or her own perverted proclivities? His hard-on was apparent even under the thick wool. It _was_ an awfully nice cock… While pondering a proactive tug on his trousers, Yaz was nudged away by the Master’s knee. She tried to push away the insult’s sting that would also please him so much.

Suddenly he was crouched down beside Yaz, head framed by the Doctor’s ankles as her bare feet rested upon his shoulders. While the Master’s mischievous eyes smoldered into her, Yaz’s solitary heart skipped a beat and renewed warmth surged between her legs. Flashing Yaz a bombastic smirk, he briefly trailed a finger along her cunt. Yaz’s hips jerked forward and pleasure flashed through her at the unexpected touch. The Master pulled away and raised his eyebrows in a cavalier expression.

“Geronimo,” he breathed and levered himself face-first into the Doctor’s pussy. Yaz gasped along with her.

It tasted heavenly, like the most delectable savory pie she’d ever had in her mouth.

How could she know that? Yaz gawped as the Master burrowed into the Doctor. He was… he was relaying his experience into her mind!

Dumbfounded, Yaz had nothing to do but stare at the achingly erotic sight of the Master’s head bobbling enthusiastically between the Doctor’s legs. Yaz was just working up the courage to take out some frustration on her own clit when the Master’s arm shot out. Tangling his fingers into the base of her loosened ponytail, the Master dragged Yaz’s head towards his crotch, pulling her onto all fours. Yaz barely kept herself from falling on the floor.

_Why don’t you pull out your consolation prize and see if it’s as ‘awfully nice’ as you remember._

It was not a question. Yaz could feel how he shifted as the Doctor began to transfer weight from her feet to his shoulders, lifting her hips up to meet his mouth. The taste of her still sang on Yaz’s tongue. Possibly Yaz could have resisted his command, but there was little room for reservations in her addled brain.

Yaz dug the Master’s cock out from his woolen trousers. Before she had time to consider, he tightened his grip on her hair and sternly guided her to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having written a number of smutty NuWho fics for previous regenerations, it was discombobulating and delightful to write out the words, “the Doctor’s beautiful cunt.”
> 
> This scene is taking longer to play out than I had originally anticipated, but you can't rush the actions a thoroughly debauched Master, now can you? Your reviews have helped keep up my enthusiasm and I thank you for that!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience as the world falls down. I somehow evaded the Master for months now, but of course he lured me back in with the promise of utter deviance and debauchery. Enjoy!

The head of the Master's cock pushed past Yaz's lips, a confusion of flavors between the reality of her own juices on his cock and the imagined paradise of the Doctor's cunt. Wool scratched at her face. At first it appeared he would let her set the pace as she slowly slid down and up around him. Something in his movements above changed, and his grip tightened on Yaz's ponytail as the Doctor squawked in pleasure. He set a pace with Yaz's head that matched his maneuvers on the Doctor.

_Tastes divine, doesn't it?_ Yaz didn't know if the Master was referring to himself or the Doctor, but the answer was yes. The sound of the Doctor's crowing grew muffled. Vertigo set in at the sensation of two quivering, soft thighs clamped around her head asYaz's mind fought with the reality of her position on the floor. The Master pumped her head with more ferocity, almost gagging Yaz with its depth. The Doctor howled on the bed, hips jerking wildly. Yaz's arms trembled unsteadily. Just when dizziness threatened to topple her, the Master yanked her head away with a growl. She landed in a heap next to him, panting. Her own senses slowly seeped back as the concrete cooled her forehead.

The Master secretly flashed Yaz a cruel grin and then stood, curling his arms under the Doctor's knees.

"That's quite the cantata you've been belting out for our little audience," he crooned to the Doctor.

The Doctor must have scowled at him. The Master held the Doctor's legs firmly as she gave a little impetuous struggle at the reminder of her companion's presence. Yaz sat up at the implied mention, still a bit turned-around from the sensual confusion.

"Why you—!" the Doctor began. Her admonitions turned to a groan as he guided his cock, still damp with Yaz's saliva, to her entrance. A chuckle rumbled through him. Yaz felt the delicious tension as he paused, prick in hand.

As the Master slowly rubbed the head of his cock up and down the Doctor's pussy, electrified warmth shocked between Yaz's legs.

_He's doing it again,_ was the last coherent thought Yaz was allowed. Suddenly she was consumed by the Doctor's sharp musk wafting up from the Master's lips; the pained desire painted across the Doctor's features; the mewling that accompanied it; and lastly, the exquisite cling of the Doctor's cunt as he inexorably pushed his length inside. The human pet's front-row seats suddenly felt like a VIP pass. Yaz was not Yaz anymore, her consciousness drawn completely into the Master. For the briefest moment her brain railed against the experience of pleasure from bits she did not possess, but that was quickly forgotten as the Master's passions pulled her under like a rip-tide. The Doctor was beautiful and elven beneath them—even with the ridiculous fuzzy pink handcuffs.

The Doctor hardly had time to adjust to the Master's girth when he abruptly picked up the pace, hips slapping into her thighs and arse. She was so… tight and wet and welcoming in a strangely adversarial sort of way. Like the Master's cock and the Doctor's pussy had just resumed a complex, ancient battle where both sides fought each other towards a mutual goal. The Master lifted her legs to his shoulders and leaned forward. He snatched at the chain that joined the handcuffs. The Doctor screwed her eyes shut and the pitch of her moans rose. _She likes it rough_ , someone thought.

Yaz felt an extra clench and trill from the Doctor as the Master leaned in. Instinctively Yaz tried to shift back to find the Doctor's sweet spot again, so engrossed in the exquisite sensations that she forgot her passenger status in this situation. Her mind rebelled again over the unresponsiveness of the body she seemed to inhabit.

The Master let out an amused scoff. _Go on then._

Stunned, it took Yaz a moment to take the Master's meaning. Then, keeping the pace, she felt herself lever the Master's body back by millimeters, until suddenly the Doctor's began keening. Breathtaking hazel eyes flew up open to stare at him. At her. A groan escaped the Master's throat and he tightened his grasp on the chain, yanking the Doctor towards him with every mighty thrust. As Yaz guided the Master's hand towards the Doctor's clit she felt him jerk away control. He channeled his obvious jealousy into the Doctor's pussy, drilling into her mercilessly. From the cacophonous crowing and insistent clutching of her cunt, Yaz could tell the Doctor was close. They were too. The Master begrudgingly found the Doctor's swollen nub, which _clearly_ he was going to do anyway, and a few strokes pushed the Doctor over the edge. Her pussy clamped down on them. Yaz heard a moan from down below that sounded strangely like her own voice, but was too caught up in the feeling of hammering away through the Doctor's orgasm _without_ coming to take much notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big finale, "coming" soon! ;)


	6. Chapter 6

With his cock still lodged in the Doctor’s pulsing cunt, the Master undid his bowtie and a few buttons on his shirt before pulling it over his head. He discarded the items atop Yaz like she was a pile of dirty laundry, his smell draped over her. Not that she was conscious of anything associated with her own body; the building could have burned down around her and she’d hardly have taken note.

“Are we done here now?” the Doctor panted.

“Not hardly.”

Yaz may have groaned in protest as the Master slid his prick out of the Doctor’s pussy with a lewd sucking noise. His trousers and pants joined his other clothes atop Yaz’s torpid form. He waved an expectant hand at the Doctor indicating she should move back, and chuckled at her struggle to wriggle up to the headboard with bound arms.

“Stop laughing at me,” the Doctor said flatly as she reached her destination, head settling on the pillows.

The Master climbed onto the bed and crawled up to the Doctor. “What would you prefer I do instead?” he asked, voice thick with innuendo.

“Let me – us – go and forget the whole thing ever happened?” the Doctor said hopefully as he knelt near her.

“That lovely skull of yours always was full of the improbable,” the Master said.

The knife seemed to cut both ways; Yaz could feel a small swell of affection from the Master as he tangled a hand into the Doctor’s hair – which was just as silky as Yaz had imagined it would be. He tightened his grip on those blond locks and his cock gave an appreciative throb at the Doctor’s groan that Yaz felt through her core. Despite her admonitions otherwise, it was clear that the Doctor loved these encounters – and possibly the Master – as much as he did.

Staring intently into the Doctor’s pleasure-glazed eyes, the Master leaned in. His lips hovered teasingly over hers, curling into a smirk as she finally tried to close the gap. The fist in her hair held fast, restraining her. With his free hand the Master guided the Doctor’s cuffed wrists to his prick. She grasped it and took out her frustration on his cock, sticky with her own juices. Each stroke felt incandescent.

The Doctor’s gaze was equal parts entreaty and determination. Yaz ached to kiss her, unconsciously pleading with the Master herself.

“Good girl,” he rumbled. He attacked the Doctor’s lips with his own.

Caught up in the passion of the two Gallifreyans’ kisses was like being sucked into the time vortex. Two universes collided; galaxies and eons hurtled by.

The Master released the Doctor’s hair and knocked her hands up above her head. Without breaking the kiss he rolled atop her, pinning her cuffed arms down and pressing the Doctor into the mattress. She moaned into his mouth and circled her hips. Sliding along each other’s sweat, they rutted and grunted until Yaz thought she would go mad.

With one hand still in command of the Doctor’s cuffs, the Master reached down to tease her sopping cunt with the head of his cock. He tore his lips away to view the Doctor’s frenzy whilst barely containing his own.

“Please,” the Doctor whispered hoarsely, “Master.”

Yaz felt the Master’s control slip a little as he pushed himself back into the Doctor. It didn’t just feel like coming home, it felt like a ticker-tape parade as the Master fucked her to the rhythm of a thousand marching bands. Yaz felt their orgasm rising again as the cymbals crashed.

Suddenly he pushed his cock in to the hilt and grabbed two vicious handfuls of the Doctor’s hips. The Doctor yelped in surprise as he spun their bodies around, magically remaining seated in her pussy. She slapped her cuffed hands onto his chest for support and wriggled atop his thighs. The Master held tight, keeping her from resuming their rhythm. Yaz couldn’t fathom it – it was clear he was just as worked up as she was. Outwardly he languorously peeled the Doctor’s hands up and held her gaze, sucking on one petite, calloused finger. Robbed of any leverage, the Doctor rocked minutely back and forth, creating what morsels of friction she could. The Master chuckled and undid the cuffs, tossing them aside with a clatter.

 _You wanted to know what it's like to be fucked by the Doctor... well here's your one and only chance,_ the Master gloated to Yaz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little update to keep your whistles wet. Reviews are love.


	7. Chapter 7

The Master laid out that disarmingly innocent expression he wore so well and splayed his arms out on the bed.

“Take me, Doctor.”

She paused atop him, lusty eyes shifting to suspicion.

As a tease to all parties involved, the Master bounced the Doctor on his thighs enticingly as she tried to deduce his game. Yaz would have begged for more if her mouth had been operational.

The Master crooked his finger at the Doctor and beckoned her.

“I have a secret,” he whispered. Dubiously, she leaned down a tad.

“Well, are you going to share with the class?”

His Cheshire Cat grin returned. The Doctor poised for a retreat.

“I’m not alone in here,” he continued finally.

The Doctor scowled down at him. He pressed up into her again and sighed. Her face gave no reaction to the delicate friction, though her cunt throbbed once around him.

“Why, whatever can you mean,” the Doctor deadpanned.

Yaz let out a mental groan as the Master sat up, bumping the head of his cock against the Doctor’s cervix. He pulled the Doctor’s face close, touch almost tender.

“I’ve got her here, inside my head.”

The Doctor let out an “ugh” of annoyance at his cryptic reply. “Well go on then. Who?”

With a little jerk of his head the Master motioned towards the heap of human flesh at the foot of the bed.

The Doctor’s eye narrowed. “You… absolute… _bastard,_ ” she growled, flinging his hands away. They flew to her hips to hold her in place.

“Don’t worry. She’s having a ball, one might say,” the Master said with a laugh. “No really, she’s been waiting for something like this since—“

The Doctor leaned back. The sting of her palm on the Master’s cheek caught Yaz by surprise, though it was clear from his glee that he’d orchestrated the Doctor’s rage.

“You know she can feel everything I’m feeling, right?”

“We’re done here,” the Doctor spat and tried to lever herself off the Master’s thighs.

He held tight. “You haven’t quite satisfied your wifely duties.”

The Doctor’s face flushed red at the phrase.

“Or I can still go Roger Moore the Living Daylights out of your little pet instead.”

Hazel eyes narrowed to venomous slits as best enemies stared each other down. Finally the Doctor shoved the Master back. He landed with a thump on the mattress. She ground her pubic bone down on his, jerking his wrists up to press them into the bed above his head. The Master went without a struggle. Yaz swore she felt him school his expression; perhaps he knew the Doctor was near her limit.

 _I’m sorry,_ came the Doctor’s pained voice in Yaz’s head. _So, so sorry._

Before Yaz could respond, the Doctor was riding the Master hard. The squelch of the Doctor’s pussy, the slap of skin on skin, the velvet barrage on their cock – even the Master groaned as the sensations threatened to overtake him. The Doctor placed a hand on his throat and leaned into it with every thrust. This was nothing like Yaz had imagined. She could feel the wild-eyed abandon in the Master, feel his rage morph into temporary bliss. As the Doctor tweaked his nipple hard, lightening ripped through them, hips stuttering. He shouted from beneath her, and Yaz followed suit in a dream-state replica as they shot stream after stream of hot come into the Doctor’s demanding cunt. Yaz shuddered violently as the Doctor wrung the last drop from them, sweat plastering her to the cold floor.

The afterglow was more like an icy lager dashed in her face as the Master thrust her out of his mind. Yaz’s eyes popped open. She’d thought she’d feel relief, but it was more of a lonesome ache, like someone pulled the plug on the thumping music at a club. Alone with her own consciousness, the silence was almost unbearable.

From up above there came the sound of another solid slap and the squeak of the mattress as the Doctor leaped off the bed.

“A little late for flirting,” a rough-voiced Master quipped, rubbing his cheek.

Ignoring their nudity, the Doctor leaned over Yaz.

“You okay?”

Though unsure, a dazed Yaz nodded and covered her breasts with an arm.

“Can you walk?”

Testing her limbs, Yaz nodded again.

The Doctor slipped on her crumpled coat and helped Yaz up. Snatching the Master’s jacket from the bedpost, Yaz was engulfed by it as the Doctor laid it over her tiny frame. His scent wafted through the air. The wool scratched against her bare skin.

"It suits you," the Master drawled.

"We'll burn it later," the Doctor muttered to her companion. 

Yaz helped the business-like Doctor collect their clothes best she could, feeling reamed inside and out. She avoided the Master’s gaze as he watched languid from the bed, lounging on his side like a tiger in repose. Yaz knew he was smirking behind them as the Doctor guided her towards the stairs.

“Ta-ta for now. Always a pleasure,” the Master said as they climbed the steps. Yaz started to turn to look at him but the Doctor pushed her gently towards the door.

“You stay away from her,” the Doctor called back firmly as they reached the top of the stairs.

_Until next time, sunshine._

  
  


  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that ended a little more darkly than I had intended. I also find that writing this Master is very similar in voice to BBC Sherlock's Moriarty, which is an entertaining character to write as well. Thanks for sticking with me. Stay safe, read fanfic and wear a mask.


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